utable. By the same token, those who have eyes to see have no
difficulty in penetrating the varying veils of expression and
identifying the underlying truths; thus confirming in the arcana of
faith what we found to be true in its earliest forms--the oneness of
the human mind and the unity of truth.
There are those who resent the suggestion that there is, or can be,
secrecy in regard to spiritual truths which, if momentous at all, are
of common moment to all. For this reason Demonax, in the Lucian play,
would not be initiated, because, if the Mysteries were bad, he would
not keep silent as a warning; and if they were good, he would proclaim
them as a duty. The objection is, however, unsound, as a little
thought will reveal. Secrecy in such matters inheres in the nature of
the truths themselves, not in any affected superiority of a few elect
minds. Qualification for the knowledge of higher things is, and must
always be, a matter of personal fitness. Other qualification there is
none. For those who have that fitness the Secret Doctrine is as clear
as sunlight, and for those who have it not the truth would still be
secret though shouted from the house-top. The Grecian Mysteries were
certainly secret, yet the fact of their existence was a matter of
common knowledge, and there was no more secrecy about their
sanctuaries than there is about a cathedral. Their presence testified
to the public that a deeper than the popular faith did exist, but the
right to admission into them depended upon the whole-hearted wish of
the aspirant, and his willingness to fit himself to know the truth.
The old maxim applies here, that when the pupil is ready the teacher
is found waiting, and he passes on to know a truth hitherto hidden
because he lacked either the aptitude or the desire.
All is mystery as of course, but mystification is another thing, and
the tendency to befog a theme which needs to be clarified, is to be
regretted. Here lies, perhaps, the real reason for the feeling of
resentment against the idea of a Secret Doctrine, and one must admit
that it is not without justification. For example, we are told that
behind the age-long struggle of man to know the truth there exists a
hidden fraternity of initiates, adepts in esoteric lore, known to
themselves but not to the world, who have had in their keeping,
through the centuries, the high truths which they permit to be dimly
adumbrated in the popular faiths, but which the rest of the ra
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